


press one

by puckurt



Category: Glee
Genre: Alternate Universe - Future, Alternate Universe - Prison, M/M, Reunion
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-18
Updated: 2016-10-10
Packaged: 2018-08-09 12:02:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 1,592
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7801153
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/puckurt/pseuds/puckurt
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Noah Puckerman is fresh from behind bars and needs somewhere to live during his probation. Kurt Hummel is the only person he knows in the area. — "Calloused fingertips punch in the numbers needed; the phone rings once, twice— 'An inmate from the Vernon C. Bain Center is attempting to contact you. To accept, press one.'"</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is an AU that's been rattling around in my brain for awhile. It'll be multi-chapter.

He's oddly nervous as he stands at the phone, chewing at the inside of his cheek and praying that the phone number Finn gave him was right. He hadn't spoken to Kurt since well before he was sent to prison, but he's the only person he knows in the area. He'd live with Finn, but the guy just got married— he's not that big of an asshole. Calloused fingertips punch in the numbers needed; the phone rings once, twice— "An inmate from the Vernon C. Bain Center is attempting to contact you. To accept, press one."

A pause. Then, the distinct sound of background noise. Puck nearly sings with joy.

"Hello?" Kurt's voice is exactly the same, all breathy and high-pitched.

A rare smile tugs at the corners of Puck's mouth. "Kurt?"

There's a long pause, but he hasn't hung up. Kurt speaks again. "Who is this?"

"Uh, it's Puck. Or, uh, Noah— you know." He doesn't think his heart's ever beaten this fast before.

"An inmate? Noah— are you in prison?!" Kurt scolds, and Puck breathes a laugh. Of course, he'd be mad.

"Yeah, but, not for long. Which is why I wanted to speak to you."

Kurt doesn't reply, clearly waiting for him to finish.

"Look, these— these phone calls can only last a couple of minutes. Can you come meet me? I'll get you on my visitors list."

There's another pause, then a familiar sigh. "Of course. What's the address?"

"I don't fuckin' know, man. Look it up."

He can practically see Kurt through the phone, eyebrows furrowed in offence. "If you're going to speak to me like that, Noah, I'll have you know, I won't bother visiting you at all!"

"Yeah, yeah," Puck grumbles. "Sorry. So you'll see me? By next week?"

"Yes, I'll see you. It... was nice talking to you."

"Yeah, you too. Uh, bye. Thanks."

"Bye, Noah."

Kurt hangs up, so Puck sets the phone back and leans against the wall, blowing out a puff of breath. Hopefully, this works out.

 


	2. 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've never been to prison, so I apologize for advance for inaccuracies. Thanks so much for the feedback! Chapters are short, but it's because the shorter they are, the more muse I have while I write them.

Puck really should have discussed a date, because for the past five days, he's been twiddling his thumbs and continually asking the guard if his name is on the visitation list. It hasn't been. Puck's nearly given up hope; Kurt was probably too  _pussy_ to be within a one mile radius of a prison, let alone come in one. Fuck that guy.

He's grumbling to himself about  _Hummel this_ and  _Hummel that_ when all of a sudden, a familiar voice comes on the speaker with a litany of names, informing the inmates which of them have visitors and which of them don't. It's a cruel reminder to those with little family, including Puck. Why the  _hell_ did he have to move away from Lima? He hasn't seen his mother in what feels like forever. Maybe that's a good thing. She'd probably cry.

He almost misses it when his surname is listed, but when it is, his breath catches in his throat. He tells himself,  _don't get your hopes up._ However, as he steps out into the visitation room, he spots him— still as tiny as ever, scarf wrapped around his neck and cheeks pink from the cold.

Maybe it's just because Kurt's a familiar face, but his insides go warm.

The other man offers Puck a smile, eyes sympathetic, and he sits down at an empty table for two. Puck follows. "Hummel," he greets, leaning back in his seat.

"Hello, Noah." Kurt folds his hands. "It's... nice to see you again." The last time they saw each other, it had been a couple years after graduation. It was just in passing; they'd both been visiting Finn, and they'd said their hellos and moved on.

Puck clears his throat and nods. "Yeah, you too. Though, not under the, uh, circum... not circumcised, but, uh, circum— circum—"

"Circumstances?"

"Yeah, those." Puck's cheeks feel hot and he slumps down in his chair even more. "I just couldn't remember the word."

Kurt nods and moves on from the subject. "Speaking of the circumstances, why exactly  _are_ you in prison?"

He sighs and shrugs, playing with the material of his sleeve. "Dunno. Doesn't matter."

"Noah, you have to know why."

"Doesn't. Matter. 'Kay?" He looks up at him again, hazel eyes stern. "The point is... I'm getting out real soon. Week an' a half from now."

Kurt smiles again, eyes crinkling. "I'm glad. You're too good for prison, you know that?"

Puck just scoffs. "—Anyway. Basically, in order to, like,  _actually_ get out, I need somewhere to live. And my ma's back in Lima and Finn just got hitched. And, I dunno... you're the only person in the boroughs that I actually know." His heart's pounding and his palms are sweaty.  _God,_ he's only been this nervous a few times.

"What are you suggesting?" Kurt asks slowly.

"That, uh, I don't know... I could put your place as my residence?" Before Kurt can respond, he's speaking again. "—Hear me out. I've got nowhere else to go, and even if I stayed at a shelter or something, at least your place wouldn't be wishy washy. Plus, I know you won't let me pull any illegal shit because you're a tight-ass. And, uh, I'll try to get a job to help with rent, and— and—"

"Okay."

Puck pauses from his rambling, taken aback. "What?"

Kurt offers a half-grin and reaches over to place his hand over Puck's in comfort. "I said okay."

Puck's heart does a triple back-flip and lands with a split. It's probably because he just found a place to live, but the back of his mind knows otherwise. "For real? Dude, Kurt... Thank you."

He nods. "You're welcome. But, please— don't call me dude."

"Sorry." He's practically beaming and he pulls his hand away to roll his sleeves up. "I'm gonna need your address, though. You know, so I can write it down? ...You got a pen?"

Kurt scrambles, digging through his purse (satchel— whatever) until he pulls out a blue pen. "Here."

"Thanks." Kurt tells him his address and Puck scrambles to write it on the back of his hand, handwriting sloppy but still legible. "I'm serious, Kurt. This means a lot."

"Of course, Noah. Anything for a friend."

Before anymore small talk can be made, the correctional officer tells them it's time to wrap things up. The two men stand and Kurt reaches out to place a small hand on Puck's bicep, which the latter immediately flexes. "I'll see you soon, Noah," he says, eyes soft. "Good luck."

Puck grins. "Yeah. See you soon."


	3. 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for the kudos and comments! It really brightens my day to see that people like what I write. :-) I will introduce more characters as the story goes on, but many of them won't be from Lima. For example, I'm going to make Santana his probation officer and Sam a friend from prison. So far, the only people he knows from high school are Finn and Kurt.

Leaving a men's prison is hardly sentimental, but in a very strange way, Puck's going to miss this place. Not the shit food or the rusty shower heads, but the friends he's made. In a place like prison, one's got to form bonds; it's human nature. Sam offers him that big-lipped grin and gives him a half-hug. Puck, however, pulls him in for a real one, face pressed into the orange fabric of Sam's jumpsuit. "I'll visit, 'kay?"

Sam nods. "You better. Now get outta here!" He playfully smacks the back of Puck's head as he turns to face the cop.

He exhales, slowly, shoving his hands in his pockets. It feels great to wear real clothes. "Okay, I'm ready."

The woman, his probation officer, scoffs. "Jesus, that was gayer than an episode of _Queer as Folk_. C'mon, you're ride's waiting outside. Don't want to keep her waiting."

He walks along side her and raises an eyebrow. "You mean _him_?"

"Shit, that's a guy? And here I was, about to hit on her."

Puck scoffs and approaches Kurt's car, heart pounding faster than it has in a long, long time. He's  _free._ The officer— Lopez, he thinks— opens the car door for him and stands back.

The last time he got in a car was six years ago, when he was arrested. It feels a lot, lot better this time. He settles into the passenger seat and sighs contently. The officer closes the door, but before she leaves, she motions for him to roll down the window.

Leaning into the car, she cocks her head to the side. "You better not fuck up out here, you got that, Puckerman?"

Puck nods. "Got it."

"I'm serious— I don't want to see your ass back in here." She offers him a rare smile and stands back up. "I'll be coming to your place of residence this evening, so be there. Understood?"

"Understood."

Once again, they're separated by the glass of the window and he turns to face Kurt. "Nice car," he comments, moving to touch the dashboard.

Kurt nods, clearly tentative. "Thanks." He chews at his bottom lip, clearly wanting to say something. However, he must decide against it, because he starts the car and faces away from Puck. "Is there anything you want to do?"

Puck's gazing out of the car window, but he registers Kurt's question. "Hm? Oh, uh... let's get some food. Some real food." His mouth practically waters as he thinks about all the food he's been missing out on. "Let's get deep-dish or burgers. Something greasy and disgusting."

Kurt almost pulls an expression of distaste but he catches himself. "Alright, greasy and disgusting it is." He faces Puck again and catches his line of vision. "Are you glad to be out?"

Puck sighs. "You have no idea."


	4. Author's Note

**A/N:** Hi! This story is far from over, but I've been very busy as of late. Please don't lose hope. -PK


End file.
